The Chaos Chronicles: Redemption and Downfall
by The Helios Spirit
Summary: Titan's Curse AU. Hellas. Ilion. Latium. Rome. Germany. Japan. New York. The Guide has been to many places over the years, wandering around the world and helping those who needed it. Now, a prophecy has come into play, and the Guide must help four demigods rescue Artemis, and those he loves, before it's too late. The Chaos Chronicles have begun, and Time... is running out. T/M
1. Prologue

"Oh muses, speak through me with your lovely voices,

So that I may tell others of the man who rose from mortal mind,

Who upon the call of gods, struck down his enemies,

And in return for good service, was cursed worse than death.

"Oh muses, grant me the blessing of your graceful prose.

Let me speak of his sister, the kind and beautiful spirit,

Who instead of shameless murder, preferred selfless love,

And for which she was cursed with a Hell on Earth.

"Oh Metis, allow me to speak of your children,

Twins whose bond was greater than Castor and Pollux,

Twins whose friends were granted immortality through tongue,

Twins whose fates were not managed by Moirai String.

"Mnemosyne, grant these legends with your divine blessing,

So that their immortality remains in Memory.

Saturn, cursed as you are, Father of the mighty Zeus,

May Time have no hold on this Legends Memory."

The child returned to his stool after delivering his poem, and the rest of the students clapped politely, making the child blush with pride. Their teacher, the Blind Poet as he was known, spoke up, his face lighting up with a smile, "Well done, Cadmus, well done! You do your namesake, the Great Cadmus of Phoekia, great honor! Well done!"

"Thank you, Master," Cadmus said, "I took inspiration from your great poems, _The Ode to Zeus_ and the Tales of _Ilium_, but I cannot hope to compete with your works."

"Nonsense, my son," the Blind Poet said, "You are a child, and wisdom comes with age. When you reach the amount of years that I have, your name will be remembered through all of Hellas, I am sure of it!" Cadmus, who had just recovered from his blush, did so again, but this time his peers did not clap – instead, they stayed silent as they burned with jealousy.

As we speak and focus on the peers of Cadmus, we see another child raise his hand, "Master, my mind comes with a question."

"Oh? Ask it, and let us see if we may find an answer for it, my child," said the Blind Poet.

"Who are the people mentions in his poem? These individuals, Castor, Pollux, Saturn," At the last one, he seems to struggle, as if the word is foreign to him, "I have never heard of such people."

The Blind Poet smiled, "Cadmus, do you have the answer for the question given by Minos?"

Cadmus nodded, "Castor and Pollux were the Dioscuri Twins, and the constellation Gemini."

"And Saturn?" pressed the Poet. When Cadmus hesitated, he encouraged him, "Come child, don't be shy – share with us your knowledge, for that is why we are here."

Cadmus took a deep breath, "Master, as I wrote this Ode, a sight crossed through the Eye in my mind. I saw a great people, a city of power and great might, and the gods on Mount Olympus giving them their blessing. I saw students with their masters; and the Masters taught their students about the gods, only with different names – Jupiter for Zeus, Minerva for the great Athena… and Saturn, Kronos."

The other five children in the classroom whimpered as a cold air seemed to brush against their skin, and the Poet drew back as if he had been slapped.

"Do not speak the Crooked One's name, child!" he chastised, "Names have power, and one as dark as the Crooked One can be easily stirred with a word! We shall not speak of this again, and you shall remove _him_ from the poem, am I understood?"

Cadmus winced, "Yes, Master."

"Good. In that case, Minos, step forward and give us your Ode…"

At the end of the day, as the students left the place of learning, the Blind Poet held Cadmus back. He warned the young boy about spiting the gods and summoning immortals with their mere name, and the child whimpered in fear, thinking he had endangered his family by doing such an act. The Blind Poet consoled him, and once the child was well, he sent him on his way.

The next day, the Blind Poet was roused from his sleep by a messenger – Cadmus was deathly ill, the healers did not know what to do, and he was asking for him. The messenger would lead him, he said, and the Blind Poet accepted.

Sometime later, the Blind Poet was sitting on a stool next to the bed of Cadmus. The boy was suffering a raging fever that was quickly spiraling out of control, and every now and then he would speak in a strange and crude language; already the boy's mother was claiming him to be cursed into madness by the gods, a sentiment shared by the Blind Poet. Could this be the Crooked One taking his vengeance upon the poor boy for his accidental deed? Or was this something else…

Suddenly, the young Cadmus awoke, and upon seeing his blind mentor sitting next to him, he started to recite, in voices not his own:

"Listen to my words, O Homer of Hellas,

As I speak of legends past and arrogance to come.

May the gods bless your ears and memory,

So that you may pass the message to come."


	2. Chapter 1

1,300 years before the Death of Christ

Ilion.

Looking upon the great walls of the city and comparing them to the might of the great army of Hellas, I knew that the world was watching. The gods were watching, looking down upon us from the heavens as the armies of Ilion and Hellas clashed against each other in an endless slaughter.

And all for the love of a woman, and the pride of a worthless King.

"To think we are here simply because of a Prince's cowardice," said my sister, her voice muffled from the shroud covering her face.

"He has broken the law of Xina," I answered, "The gods are not pleased with those who break the law of Zeus. Poseidon himself is furious at the Royal Family for harboring the woman, and has instructed me to take no prizes – they are to be slaughtered."

"The Earthshaker? When did he speak to you?"

"Where else but when we traveled his domain? I could see him in the eye of my mind as his waves carried us away from home to this cursed lands."

"Peace, brother," my sister laid a hand on my arm, and I immediately felt my anger ebb away – how could I remain angry at my sweet sister, who was born at the same moment as I? Our whole lives, we only had each other, never leaving the other's side, not even for this cursed war where women had no part. No doubt, she was, _is_ far braver than I.

Just then, a war horn sounded across the lands, and my sister and I shared a sad glance as our Master approached us.

"Master," we chorused, bowing our heads in respect and holding our right fist over our hearts.

"Daujd, Tria," he said, pronouncing my name with a _–shh_ sound, "It is time. Daujd, pick up your blades and your armor; they are in your tent. Tria, I believe I have found a suitable weapon for you to practice with. Come with me, your brother will join us later."

…**ooOoo…**

Blood.

Sweat.

Screams. Human? Horse?

Arrows whistle past my ears, and yet I do not fear them.

Duck stab from an enemy spear.

Raise blade, block. Slash with other blade.

Another pear, dodge. Slash, cut it in half, kill.

Fire, flames consuming men with unsatisfiable hunger.

Grab an ally, push him in front to block the flames. His screams will haunt me tonight.

It goes on. When shall it end?

…**ooOoo…**

_Three years later…_

"Keep your guard up!" I snapped as I attacked once more. Tria raised her hammer to block, far quicker than a person her size and build should be able to, and my left blade clashed against the iron handle. I slashed with my right blade, but this time Tria intercepted with the solid block of iron. The impact of my sword against her maul was enough to leave my arm visibly vibrating as we disengaged.

Tria followed by swinging her maul, and I jumped backwards, knowing that attempting to stop that metal monster would lead to disaster. Tria followed me though, quickly reversing the direction of her swing with a speed that surprised me. I was surprised when the spike grazed my armor – when had she become so fast with the maul? My surprise was so great that before I could react, Tria's third swing finally connected.

_Crack._ Tria dropped her hammer in the sand in horror at the sight of my twisted left arm.

"Daujd! Brother, are you-"

Taking advantage of her distraction, I surged forward and tackled her into the sand, holding my remaining blade to her neck. She didn't give up though, and punched my mangled arm, flipping us and disarming me with a clever twist of my wrist.

The next thing I knew, I was looking at the tip of my own blade. Beyond that, I welcomed Tria's smug and exuberant face with a congratulatory grin of my own.

The sound of clapping drew our attention to our Master, who had been watching our fight with a keen gaze.

"Well done, Tria, well done! You did make a mistake by allowing yourself to be distracted by your brother's injury, but you managed to defeat him nonetheless… well done!"

Tria was blushing by the time our Master finished, but her smile was brighter than Helios as she thanked our Master profusely.

"No matter, no matter, young Tria," he said, "However, I believe your brother is in need of the healers… Take him there, make sure he is well-looked after, and then come to my tent later. There some things we need to discuss."

"Of course, my Lord," she said, "It shall be done."

Tria walked over to me, picking me up and slinging my right arm over her shoulders, but my gaze was elsewhere. A chill went through me as we walked away from the area that had been cleared for our fight. Tria did not notice as she kept speaking excitedly of our fight, and I did not have the heart to tell her of my troubles – how could I, when my sweet, kind sister was giddy with the happiness of her victory?

Instead I smiled, truly happy for her. Like the heroine Atalanta before her, she did not want to marry and had taken the path of the warrior at my side. She had not taken a vow of maidenhood, however, as in this war the Great Huntress was not on our side.

Still, my doubts and demons did not leave me, returning with full force to assault my mind as Tria left me with the healers. I urged them to hurry with my arm, and they, sensing the urgency in my tone complied – my position as my Master's apprentice gave me enough power to strike fear in the common man. The healers released me after giving me measured amounts of the food of the gods – that sweet Nectar and Ambrosia – instructing me to not pull my arm out of the sling and to get plenty of rest. Somehow, I knew I would not be getting the rest I so dearly wanted and needed.

As I walked into the area where my Master's army, I heard steps running to me with desperation. I turned, and looked into the panicked eyes of my Master's prize from the temple of Apollo: Briseis, the cousin of Hector and Paris.

"Daujd!"

"Briseis, what is the matter? What ails you?" I asked her with tenderness in my voice. She had been captured in the first attack, and I could see in her eyes that she missed her family. She wanted to return home, and I could sympathize with her – after all, didn't I and my sister wish the same? Besides, she was as sweet as my sister, and was in fact one of her best friends in the camp.

Briseis rushed into my arms, and I instinctively hugged her as she started to sob. "Oh Daujd, if it were only me who is in peril! Your sister came into your Master's tent naught but mere minutes ago, and he ordered me out the tent. As I was leaving, I heard your sweet sister scream for help, but the guards would not let me pass! I did not know what to do, but alas! The gods smiled upon us today, for as I ran to get Patroclus, I saw you! Please-"

"Speak no more, Briseis." I was trembling in anger, my rage increasing with every word that she spoke. Briseis was still crying, though not as strongly anymore, and so I spoke to her: "Briseis, listen to me carefully. Go to the stables, and saddle both of the immortal horses belonging to my Master. Speak to Patroclus – he will help you. Go, now. My sister and I shall join you momentarily."

The girl nodded, picking up her skirts as she ran towards Patroclus' tent. I did not see her run away however, for my rage had enveloped my sight in blood as I rushed to mine and my sister's tent. As I expected, there I found my twin blades, Tria's maul, and the four triangular bladed shields that had been gifted to my sister and I from the god Hermes. They were magical, no doubt, but unfortunately we could not use them in battle, for they would pass harmlessly through mortals. Still, I had no reason to leave them as a prize for an arrogant King, and so at my touch, each shield shrank into a bracelet. I packed the bracelets and some robes into a pack, and in another, I packed my sister's leather armor – I was still wearing my own.

Just then, a man burst into my tent, and I was quick to place one of my blades at his neck. I sheathed it, however, when I recognized the cousin of my Master – Patroclus, son of ::::::, and a dear friend of my sister. In another time, I would have approved a marriage between the two.

Patroclus was sad as he spoke, "Ah, Daujd, Briseis told me everything! I came here to pack your things for your travels, but I see that I have been beaten in this matter."

"Thank you, Patroclus, but I am ready to depart. Are the horses ready?"

"Freshly watered and saddled. Do you wish for me to accompany you to help your sweet sister, my friend?" His expression darkened, "I knew of my cousin's arrogance, but I had never thought that he would be capable of this act."

"All men are capable of committing the act Patroclus, but only those of the strongest sense of morality and will have the wisdom to not do so," I said with anger, "No, Patroclus, I do not wish for you to accompany me; this is something I must do on my own. He is your cousin, and I hope you will be able to control him in this war. He may end up slaying our own army instead of Ilion's."

Patroclus nodded sadly, wordlessly taking the two packs and Tria's maul and leaving the tent. I followed him after strapping one blade to my left hip, and the other on my back, immediately turning towards my Master's tent, my rage building with every step. I had seen the intention in his eyes when he had congratulated my sister, and I did not act. I would never be able to forgive myself, this I knew, but I would reap my vengeance.

As I walked, I did not notice how the sand was swirling around my feet, nor did I notice the cloaked woman looking at me with pride and sadness in her eyes. I did not notice how she spoke words to soft for me to hear, did not notice the slight glowing surrounding my body as I walked, did not notice how she disappeared by turning into a fly. My rage was all I felt, and I welcomed it, promising blood and vengeance.

As Briseis had said, there were two guards standing outside of his tent – he was no longer my Master, and so I would never call him that again. The guards stepped forward as I approached, but before they could speak, I had drawn one of my blades and beheaded one. The other was already dead as I stepped past him, his chest having exploded and his guts littering the sand. Absentmindedly, I wondered how I had killed him without touching him, but I pushed it to the back of my mind.

My Master was waiting for me, and he would pay in blood.

…**ooOoo…**

Present Day

_Location: Contact your service provider for current geographical location._

Seagulls. The annoying cries of the white birds definitely woke me up, but unfortunately they were not helping with the pounding in my head – what was this called? A migraine? My body felt no less abused, my muscles contracting and shivering uncontrollably on the sand – sand? It felt like shards of glass! – as pain racked throughout my body.

Where was I? What had happened to me?

To my right, behind me, I heard someone approaching quickly, bare feet squishing in the wet sand. I didn't even try to look at the person coming; the little amount of light that was passing through my closed eyelids were like blunt knives being shoved into my brain.

As I shivered, I tried to take stock of my body's condition, but the migraine chased away any attempts, so I settled for squeezing my eyes shut as much as possible and waiting for this mystery person coming towards me.

The footsteps stopped at my side, and I felt myself being rolled onto my side. A feminine gasp sounded above me, and for some reason my heart automatically stuttered. What was going on? On a whim, I tried to open my eyes, but even that caused a spear of agony to pierce my brain and I whimpered in pain.

"Shhh, shh, shh," the woman was now cradling my head on her lap, and at the sound of her voice, my body was automatically relaxing. "Rest, my hero. You are safe here." Her voice sounded broken, like she was holding back tears, and my heart ached in pain for her even though I didn't know who she was.

I wanted to say many things, like who she was, where it was hurting, but the words that tumbled out of my mouth surprised the both of us.

"Who am I?"

Her hands, which had started to thread in my hair stilled in surprise. When she spoke, her voice was riddled with pain, "You do not know you are?"

Somehow, I understood the unasked question: Did I know who she was? My body obviously did, but my mind didn't – I couldn't relate a face to her voice. Hell, I couldn't relate my face to my own voice!

A saying echoed through my pain-filled haze: _No pain, no gain._ Ignoring the pain being stabbed into my eyes, I slowly opened them and looked at the tear-stricken face above me. She was beautiful, with almond eyes and loose caramel-colored hair falling over her shoulders and into my face – I didn't care though, as the scent of cinnamon and juniper was heavenly, and it was starting to lull me to sleep. Her face was one of those that just seemed timeless, and she looked around fifteen or sixteen years old.

A memory – my first at the moment – flashed through my head: The same girl, looking the same age, looking down at me in a similar posture as she sang a lullaby. I had asked her name then, and she had given it.

"You… are Calypso. And I… do not know who I am, only that I am home."

Her smile was sad and happy at the same time, and I answered with a relieved sigh. It was too much, however, as with that, the pain was too much, and I willingly succumbed into the blackness of unconsciousness.

…**ooOoo…**

The next time I woke up, it was in a cave. I couldn't remember if I had ever been in one before, but if I had I doubted that they were as good as this one. The ceiling glittered with different colored crystal formations: white, purple and green were the most predominant ones. I was lying on a comfortable bed with feather pillows and cotton sheets, and the cave was divided into different sections by white silk curtains. On the two walls I could see, one had a loom and a harp while the other was covered with shelves of jars of fruit preserves. Nearby to that wall, dried herbs hung from the ceiling: Rosemary, Thyme, Mint were the ones I recognized just by their smell alone.

I hadn't been lying when I had spoken to Calypso earlier: it _did_ feel like home.

Ignoring the lingering pain in my arms and legs, I sat up on the edge of the bed. I immediately noticed that I had had my clothes changed while I was asleep. Cotton pants and a T-shirt… not exactly my style, but they would have to do. Just the motion of sitting up made me slightly light-headed, so I rested a little bit before attempting to stand. I could afford to take my time; after all, I wasn't overly worried about being in an unfriendly place. I hadn't tied to the bed or restrained in any way, and the exit to the cave wasn't blocked by some huge ominous rock that would take a giant to move.

Eventually I managed to stand, but not without difficulty. The real surprise came when I turned and I ended up facing a polished bronze mirror.

_So this is what I look like…_

The person looking back at me was in their late teenage years, around sixteen or seventeen and had short black hair and an angular chin with bits of stubble, like I hadn't shaved in a while or couldn't grow a full beard. I also looked like I had lost some weight, muscle weight – there were no traces of baby fat anywhere. Blue eyes stared back at me, but for some reason the color didn't feel right. Looking closer, I gazed into the reflection of my eyes and I noticed _something_ covering the irises. _Contacts,_ my mind supplied. Once I had gotten the offending objects from my eyes, I smiled as pale brown, almost grey colored eyes welcomed me.

That wasn't the only thing though. There was a clean bandage around my head, and the wound it was covering was the source of most of my discomfort. I lifted my hand to remove it, to see the injury itself, but I hesitated. Wasn't the head one of the more sensible areas? Better to not disturb my injury.

Satisfied, I turned away from the mirror and made my way to the entrance.

Once I managed to make it outside, I realized a few things: one, I had no idea where (who) I was, and yet I was completely relaxed, something I wasn't very sure was very… me; and two… wherever this place was, it was _Paradiso._

Dante Alighieri, anyone? …Forget it.

The cave opened onto a green meadow. On the left was a grove of cedar trees and on the right a huge flower garden. Four fountains gurgled in the meadow, each shooting water from the pipes of stone satyrs. Straight ahead, the grass sloped down to a rocky beach, where the water (from a lake or the ocean?) lapped against the rocks with a soothing sound. The sun sparkled on the water, and the sky was pure blue.

Like I said, _Paradiso._ Paradise.

My heart stuttered as I found my healer. Calypso was standing near the edge of the water, looking out at something I hadn't or couldn't see. I couldn't see her face, but from her posture and the way she held herself, I could tell she was sad. Why, I wasn't sure, and neither was I sure why I wanted to rush over and comfort her. Was she someone from my lost past, someone that I cared for dearly or were these just plain teenage hormones acting up? Her name was _definitely_ familiar, but like everything else, I couldn't remember why.

My legs were still stiff from their unknown abuse, so I walked to her slowly. She was dressed in a white sleeveless Greek dress (how did I know that?) with a low circular neckline trimmed in gold, and as I approached she brushed at her eyes like she'd been crying. Again, my heart stuttered at the sight, and I couldn't help but think that she was beautiful.

When I finally reached her, we stared at each other for a few moments, each waiting for the other to break the silence. When she didn't make any motion to speak, I made my leap of faith.

"Hi."

Yes, I know, I deserve the Novel Prize of Eloquence for that one. Still, it seemed to work as Calypso smiled, shaking her head in amusement.

"Only, you, David," she said, "You haven't changed a bit."

_So, my name is David, and Calypso and I have _definitely_ met before in the past._ The knowledge was both satisfying and relieving.

I took a deep breath, "So we _have_ met… I'm sorry, I just can't remember anything. Up until a few minutes ago, the only thing in my head so far was me waking up… on the shore?" I frowned and looked at her inquisitively.

Calypso's expression was of sadness. She reached up and ran her fingers through my hair, and instead of stepping back, I leaned into her palm and closed my eyes as a smile of content spread. Calypso's breath hitched, making my eyes fly open. She turned away, already stepping away as if running away, but I didn't give her the chance. I gripped the hand that had been in my hair and pulled her close, holding her as she started to cry. The sound tore at me, like a knife twisting in my heart. On impulse, I kissed her hair, breathing in the scent of cinnamon.

After a while Calypso calmed down, pulling away apologetically. Even though I didn't want to, I let her go.

"I'm sorry," she said, brushing away her tears, "I- I don't know why I did that." She took a deep breath to steady herself, and this time her smile was more genuine.

I shrugged, "We all have our moments." I paused before winking at her, "Except for me, I'm just to awesome for that."

Calypso laughed, a sound so beautiful that I couldn't help but join her after a moment. Even though I had no memory whatsoever, at that moment I felt as if it were insignificant – all that mattered was that I could hear her laughter and that I wanted to hear it again.

Somehow, all was well.

…**ooOoo…**

We settled down for some lunch, the plates and platters of food carried to and from the table by invisible servants. At first I had thought that the whole dynamic was magical, but then I had noticed the food in question floating around – they even moved with the up and down motion made from footsteps.

When we were done the servants carried the remaining food away to a hidden kitchen, but Calypso and I stayed at the table, looking out at the ocean with a comfortable silence.

It was Calypso who broke the silence. "David, what do you remember?"

I shrugged, "Virtually nothing. I'm getting a whole déjà-vu feeling when I look around, especially when I see you, but that's it. Until you mentioned it a few minutes ago, I didn't even know my name. What do you know about me?"

Calypso smiled, albeit sadly, "Well, your name is quite easy to recall. The first time we met, you told me you name was David Johnson. You told me that you had a second name as well, but that you disliked it."

"Did I mention why?"

"You did, but the tale is not a happy one. I will give it to you like you did to me so many moons ago, but let us not darken the mood with such words."

I nodded, accepting it for now. "How long ago was the first time we met?"

Calypso frowned. "I am not sure, David. Time passes differently here in Ogygia, so what could be years out there," she motioned to the open sea, "could be days here. The opposite can also be said as well."

"How did we meet?"

"Quite similarly as we did yesterday. I found you on the beach, and you were both dehydrated and injured. I nursed you back to health, and when you woke up, you stayed here with me for a long time… almost two moons. Eventually you had to go back, but you swore that you would return." Here her expression was a combination of sadness, wonder and hope, "I told you that such a thing was impossible – it is a part of my curse."

"Curse?" I asked, leaning forward, "You're cursed?"

Calypso blinked before she nodded in understanding, "I'm sorry, I forget that you do not remember. To the visitor, Ogygia is a paradise, but to me it is a prison. I cannot leave the island. Occasionally, every thousand years or so-"

"Occasionally?" I repeated with sarcasm. Calypso rolled her eyes good-naturedly and continued.

"As I was saying, the gods will send me some company, a hero who needs my help. I tend to him, and befriend him, but it is never random." Here, her voice started to tremble, and she had to stop.

Information popped into my head then, and I continued in an emotionless voice, "They always send someone who can never stay. Someone that you can't help… can't help falling in love with."

The night was quiet except for the gurgle of the fountains and waves lapping on the shore. I noticed Calypso's shoulders start to shake, so I got up and embraced her. All the while, I couldn't help but think that her explanation, well, explained a lot of things. But there was one thing on the forefront of my mind; while I could tell that I loved her, whoever I was, I wasn't _in_ love with her.

This needed to be cleared up, I knew, for both our sakes.

"Calypso…" I ran my fingers through her hair, silently consoling her. "Dearest Calypso… Sweet sister in all but blood."

Calypso stilled. When I looked down, there were tears brimming in her eyes, but not of sadness.

"You… you remember?" she asked, hope in her voice.

I smiled, "No. But somehow, I knew. I knew… because family _always comes first._"

Calypso's answering smile was brighter than the sun.

…**ooOoo…**

_Depending on the severity of the injury, one of the most common side-effects from head trauma is temporal or permanent amnesia. In most cases the patient may recover the lost memories if the loss is only partial, but if it a total memory loss, the chances of recovery decrease exponentially._

These were the words that crossed my mind as I held the metallic casing in my hands.

"So this was in my head?" I asked. Calypso nodded.

"Yes, embedded on the inside of your skull. At first I thought that it was an arrowhead, but it's too small-"

"It's not an arrowhead," I interrupted, "It's a bullet. Eight millimeter, I think, judging from the thickness." I put the bullet back in the metal pan Calypso had provided. "I'm lucky to have survived with just the memory loss. Usually those things ricochet on the inside, completely destroying the brain. And judging from the traces of gunpowder on the back of my head, it was fired at point-blank." I turned back to the daughter of Atlas, "How the hell did you manage to get this out?"

Calypso grimaced, "It wasn't easy. It took all of my healing powers to keep you alive. The… bullet, as you called it, went through the back of the right side of your brain at an angle and lodged on the inside of your skull. The parts that I had to cut out… well, you won't be needing them anymore." Calypso bit her lip, "Honestly, I truly have no idea how you are alive right now. You screamed so much…"

I smiled. "The human brain is truly a gift of God," I said, "Whatever function that that part of my brain used to do will be done by another part now. Ever heard of a man named Phineas Gage?" Calypso shook her head. "Phineas Gage was foreman in railroad construction that lived back in the Eighteen-hundreds. He had an accident in which an iron rod went through his left cheekbone and came out through the top of his head.

"The guy was unconscious for five minutes, got up, and walked half a mile to the nearest doctor _on his own._ After that, he lived for twelve years, and the only sign of the injury was the loss of his left eye." I paused, "Well, that and the fact that he lost most of his emotional control. He became angrier, bitter, more prone to swearing, that sort of thing. I'm just thankful I have the retrograde amnesia, and not the anterograde Amnesia."

Calypso looked hopelessly confused, and I blushed. "Sorry, uh… retrograde amnesia is partial or total loss of memory prior, in this case, to the injury. Anterograde amnesia…" I took a deep breath, "Well, to be honest we'll know within the next few weeks. Anterograde amnesia means that I won't be able to create or associate new memories after the event."

Calypso paled. "So if you have… ante… antigrade amnesia…"

"Anterograde," I said, nodding. "Yeah. I would forget everything that happened today. Couple that with retrograde amnesia… I'd have no memories whatsoever by this time tomorrow. None." I shuddered as a terrifying thought entered my head, "We, uh… haven't had this conversation before, have we? I mean-"

Calypso's eyes were wide, "No! Gods no, David, I… this is the first time I have ever heard of anything like this!"

I let out a relieved breath I didn't know I was holding. "Oh, thank God… for a moment there I thought that… that this…" I let out a weak chuckle.

Calypso smiled, taking my hand I silent comfort. "I know," was all she said.

It was all that needed to be said.

…**ooOoo…**

Before I went to sleep, I relived the entire day in my mind, committing every single detail, every conversation to memory with Calypso's help. So far, my short-term memory seemed intact to the point that I even remembered what and how much of each food Calypso and I ate at lunch _and_ dinner. Unfortunately, we wouldn't know the extent of my memory loss until tomorrow, when I woke up.

"Did I have anything when I washed up?" I asked as I laid down on the bed I had woken up in.

Calypso nodded. "You did, but it was not much. Your clothes were ruined, of course. There were some weapons as well, but I'll give those to you when you feel better." Calypso gave me piercing look, "Memory loss or not, I _do_ remember how you used to be, and so I will not take any risks that may hamper your recovery, little brother."

I gave her a tired half-smile; already sleep was threatening to overcome me. "Who said you're older? You certainly don't look a day over sixteen…"

Calypso sighed. "I forget that you don't remember… I'm much older than you believe, little brother. But that is a story for another time. Now, you must sleep." Bending over, she planted a kiss on my forehead, bringing a smile to my face. "Good night, my hero."

"'Night, 'lypso…"

…**ooOoo…**

_Rain. Thunder. A full moon hovering over a stormy sea, and then darkness as agony ripped through my head._


End file.
